


About Today

by leastamongequals



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 09:56:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4620969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leastamongequals/pseuds/leastamongequals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellie has a distressing day. Joel comforts her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	About Today

**Author's Note:**

> Today you were far away  
> and I didn't ask you why.  
> What could I say?  
> I was far away.  
> You just walked away  
> and I just watched you.  
> What could I say?
> 
> "About Today" - The National

Joel wakes in the dim pre-dawn light and turns over to find that the bed is empty. Ellie, who is usually the last one to rise in the settlement, typically missing breakfast, has gotten up before him. Her side of the bed is still warm. Joel yawns and sits up, rubbing his eyes as he calls out to her. "You're up awful early today, darlin'. Breakfast ain't for another hour."

Silence. She's already bathed and dressed. Joel sighs and lays back down. He closes his eyes, pulls the comforter up under his chin. Bad move. Though considerably cooler than Texas, summers in Wyoming are still hot. "Shit." Joel practically leaps out of bed and tosses the blanket to the floor. The vehemence of the action is ridiculous, and Joel chuckles as he walks toward the bathroom. A nice, cold shower will do him wonders.

* * *

Breakfast for the day consists of sausage, bacon, scrambled eggs, and a biscuit. Ellie stares dully down at her plate, chewing a piece of bacon like a cow with cud. Growing up, Ellie was used to a glass of milk and a slice of bread if she ate at all. The monthly bread ration was only two loaves, so more often than not she went without. Since they moved into the settlement, Joel has been obsessed with her nutrition and caloric intake.

He likes to eat with her, and watch her eat. Occasionally he feeds her himself, slipping bits of banana or bread into her mouth as if she were a baby. But only when they are alone. Then Ellie chews her food slowly and deliberately, suckling Joel's fingers as his eyes crinkle in delight and become clouded with a lustful heat. Thinking of it, Ellie feels heat rise in her cheeks.

"Good morning." Maria sits down across from her, snapping Ellie out of her daze. "How do you like that biscuit?"

"Iss gud," Ellie murmurs, chewing the bread more rapidly. "Ugh, sorry," she grimaces after she swallows. "My mom taught me not to talk with my mouth full, I promise. What are you having?"

"No need to apologize. It's Friday, so I'm going light. Cuppa joe, few pieces of bacon. How'd you sleep?"

"Mmm, I didn't really sleep."

"I hope Joel didn't have anything to do with that." Maria laughs as Ellie chokes, covering her mouth with her sleeve as she starts to cough. When she recovers, she glares at Maria and hisses "That's really none of your goddamn business!" She is furious, her face red, her breath coming in angry little pants.

Maria laughs again and lightly taps Ellie on the cheek. "Lighten up, I was just teasing you. What the hell."

"You're right. Sorry, but you really shouldn't fuck around like that. I wouldn't even joke about personal shit like that. It's not funny."

"Not to you, obviously. But there are actually plenty of women here who can take a joke."

"Sorry I'm not one of them." Ellie's expression has settled into the blank, apathetic look that she assumed after she was bitten and had mastered long before leaving Boston. It is a look Maria has not seen since the day Ellie stole Callus from the stables and took off into the woods.

* * *

When Joel enters the communal dining hall, Ellie has already left. Joel tries to fend off a surge of anxiety as he loads his plate with sausage and eggs. He sees Tommy sitting alone, writing in a notepad between bites of egg and sips of ice water. He resumes writing and does not look up even when Joel sets his plate down with a clatter. "Mornin', Joel."

"Mornin'" Joel murmurs. He picks up Tommy's styrofoam cup of water, takes a few sips. "That's mine," Tommy says mildly. "You coulda got your own."

Joel snorts. "Yeah, I coulda, but I figured my little brother wouldn't mind sharing. I'm sorry I was wrong. Who'd a known you'd act like a goddamn kid?"

"That right? You're actin' like a goddamn old man."

"I AM a goddamn old man."

Tommy looks up, a wry look on his face that is more grimace than smile. "You ain't that old."

"You ask me 53 is pretty damn old. Maybe that ain't always been the case, but in this day it sure as hell is. I swear, I can't even hardly -"

"Please, for the love of god, don't tell me you can't get it up."

"No, asshole. I do just fine in that area, not that it's any of your business. I was just gonna bitch about typical old folks' stuff, you know, my joints aching in the rain and all that. What are you writin'?"

"Love letter to Maria," Tommy deadpans. "You ever consider that maybe all the broken bones and gunshots and stab wounds you've had over the years contribute to your pain? I mean Jesus, that woulda killed most men."

"I guess he's keepin' me alive for a reason, then. Jesus, I mean. What are you really writing?"

"To-do list. Lotta shit I have to do today. You want to help me?"

Joel takes a deep breath, and when he exhales mutters his agreement. It's going to be a long day.

* * *

Ellie decides to join Maria on cleaning duty. Washing dishes is a chore she has done since she was 8 years old. However, today she dreads it because it is a chore that does not require tremendous concentration. Maria will not stop nagging her, in her kind and gentle way. "Are you alright? You know you can tell me anything."

"I know. I'm fine, really. Why do you ask?"

Maria pauses to look over. Ellie no longer has the look that she is ready to flee, but she looks terrible. She is pale and wan, her eyes rimmed with dark circles. She rinses off a few plates and stacks them in a makeshift dishdrainer fashioned from an old milk crate. "I ask," she says lightly, "because I care. Because, frankly, you look like shit. I just worry, is all."

"Don't. I appreciate your concern, but I hate to make you worry." Ellie's tone is listless, but her words are sincere. Most days, she's fine. When she's not, she's able to conceal it, get through what she needs to get through, able to wrap up a shitty day in the arms of the man she loves and who loves her more than anything. Days shitty and pretty, she'll always have that.

When they've washed the dishes, wiped down the tables, swept, vacuumed and mopped the dining hall, it's time to start cooking again. There are 800 people in the Jackson settlement, so it's a full time job just cooking and cleaning up after everyone. 244 of the citizens are women, so the kitchen duties are divided evenly among them so that everyone works in the kitchen and dining hall at least every four months.

Dinner for the day is simple, potato soup heated in a couple vats the size of kiddie pools. Ellie is tasked with stirring the vats. She talks with Maria as they work, about simple matters. The weather, Maria's health, and things such as computers you had to plug into the wall, so heavy that you couldn't carry them, which is incomprehensible to Ellie. "You're making that shit up."

"Am not. Wish I had a photo just to prove it to you. We called them 'desktops,' I guess because they took up the whole damn desk. Add some salt." Ellie complies. It is strange to think about, computers that take up a whole desk. But then, until she was 13, she had no concept of what a 'computer' even was. The zone she grew up in didn't even have electricity.

"Tell me more. Tell me more about what life was like before."

* * *

"I'm telling you Joel, you're being ridiculous. If anything, maybe it's her time of the month."

"Don't give me that shit. Why is it that everytime a woman's a little moody you automatically point the finger there?"

"That's usually the case. And I ain't pointin' a finger nowhere. It is what it is." Tommy turns his attention back to the turbine. "You gonna help me fix this or not?" "No," Joel says curtly. "You know I don't know shit about that stuff. Why don't you send me on to the next job?" Joel is good at building things, not necessarily fixing them. "Naw. I reckon' you oughta stay here. You're good company." 

"No need to be a smartass, Tommy."

"I ain't trying to be. I miss you, Joel. Don't get to spend much time with you, busy as we always are. How are you?"

"Good, I guess, besides the usual aches and pains."

"Do you talk like this with Ellie? God, she must be thrilled. She really has a lot to look forward to as she gets older." 

Suddenly, Tommy is shoved from behind. His head hits the turbine, and he is so woozy he fears he'll pass out. He sits down, staring warily at Joel as he gingerly rubs the knot forming above his left eye. "Goddamn, Joel, that was a joke! Didn't think you'd take it so serious." Joel reaches down and offers his hand. He helps Tommy up, pats him awkwardly on the shoulder. "Sorry about that. Maybe it's my time of the month, too."

"Well, that may be true, but next time I'll know not to talk shit. Seriously though, what is the deal? You been overthinkin' again."

"Sometimes thinkin's all there is to do. You know? And I think of all kinds of shit, like the fact that I'm old enough to be her dad. Hell, Sarah woulda been 18 when Ellie was born. That means I'm 'bout old enough to be her grandfather." 

"Whoa, slow down a sec." Tommy riffles through his pocket. He pulls out a matchbox and a pack of cigarettes. Virginia Slims. Before the plague he would never have touched the stuff, but these days it's all there is. Beggars can't be choosers and all that. He shakes a couple out, hands one to Joel. Strikes a match and lights up, then passes it to Joel.

"Great. Now you're tryin' to give me cancer, too." Joel takes a drag, holds the smoke in his mouth as long as he can before exhaling. Instantly, he feels a sense of calm come over him. Maybe it's willpower, maybe it's the nicotine. Whatever it is, it works. "Good thing we're outside. Maria'd be mad as hell if we smoked inside." "She would," Tommy agrees. "Now, what else is on your mind?"

"You know, I take back what I just said. About being old enough to be Ellie's grandfather. I'd have killed Sarah if she got knocked up as a teenager."

"Like you did? Or did the knocking up rather. You know what I mean." "Yup." Joel sits down, too tired to stand. "You know, it's a wonder Mom didn't drop down dead when I told her. The look she gave me, you'd a thought I sold my soul to the devil." "Aw hell, she was more worried about what the church people would think than anything else. But then, you know, she was a martyr anyway. Good woman of God, raising her boys in the nurture and admonition of the Lawd Jeez-uss. Where did sweet little Joel go wrong?"

"Know what? I wouldn't have given a shit if Sarah got knocked up. We'd have made things work."

"Damn right. You'd a taken Daddy's old Marlin and stuck it in the face of whatever poor sonovabitch she lay down with. Talk about a shotgun wedding."

* * *

Dinner is ready and set up by 6:00. Ellie breathes a sigh of relief as she slouches down in a chair. She watches people go through the line, ladling up soup like gold dust. She can't blame them. In spring and summer, residents eat only twice a day, at 6 am and 6 pm. It makes sense. They need more food in winter because they use more energy. And no one complains. They have known real hunger. They're grateful for what they have. 

Ellie scans the hall, sees people bowing their heads to pray. It used to drive her crazy. How could anybody read the bible or koran (any holy book for that matter) and not know that it was all a steaming pile of bullshit? She's realized that you can't dictate to someone how or what to believe, though some sure as hell try. Live and let live.

Ellie sees Joel sit down, and goes over to him. "Here, baby girl." Joel hands her his spoon. She eats a few spoonfuls to satisfy him. For all the salt she added, the soup is pretty bland. Maybe it's in her mind. She stands, shifting her weight from one foot to another. "Sit down, darlin'. You ain't gotta stand there." "Hunh-uh. I can't stay. There's something I have to do." Before he can reply, Ellie kisses his cheek and takes off.

"There, did you see that?" A few tables over, Tommy's brow furrows. "She took off like she has a fire lit under her ass." Maria sighs and puts her hand on her husband's cheek. "Don't worry about it. What happens everytime you try to get involved? You get a black eye or a goose egg. You oughta know by now to leave them be."

"I ain't getting involved. I'll let 'em handle their own shit. I was just making an observation."

"Good. Keep in mind, Ellie's a teenager, at least physically. Psychologically, that girl might as well be 100 years old for all the stuff she's seen, the stuff she's been through." Maria blinks back tears. "Well . . ." she stands up and gathers their plates and cups. "I'm going to go ahead and start on cleanup. I'll see if Emma can help out in Ellie's place."

"You know something." Tommy frowns and absently rubs his bruised forehead. "What did Ellie tell you?"

* * *

Hours later, Joel finds Ellie. She's lying in bed, hunched up in a ball. One hand is clenched in a fist, the other covering her eyes. She's fully clothed, still wearing her canvas sneakers. From the way she is shivering, her teeth grinding, he knows that she is sobbing. He stands silently by the bed, watching until her body stills. She is asleep. "Oh god." Joel takes her shoes and socks off. He lays down beside her, resisting the strong urge to reach out and pull her toward him. He knows he needs to let her come to him.

Hours pass. Joel doesn't move until he feels Ellie stir. He closes his eyes as she rolls over to face him. He feels her caress his jaw, his cheeks. She traces the line of his lips, and he fights the urge to kiss her fingers. "Joel," she whispers. "Are you awake?" "Yeah." He inches closer and opens his eyes. Ellie's are tearstreaked, and that causes Joel to tear up. "Yeah baby, I'm awake." Ellie blinks. She holds Joel's hand and presses it to her mouth. "Joel . . .I'm so sorry." "What is it, baby? What do you have to be sorry for?"

"For today. I didn't mean to be so cold. I . . . god, this is hard to tell you!"

"It's alright. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

"I don't. I don't want to tell you, but I have to. I was - I was g-gonna have a. . ."

"Baby," Joel interrupts. "You were gonna have a baby. Our baby."

"Yeah." Ellie starts to cry as she nestles against Joel's side. "I wasn't sure until I started getting sick in the morning. You know, I'd missed a couple cycles, but that's nothing unusual. Joel, I was so scared. I didn't know what to do. I thought, shit, I can't deal with this." She sobs, and Joel holds her. "I f-felt it move a few days ago. I was so happy I wanted to cry. I was going to tell you today. But then my stomach started cramping, and I went to the bathroom and -"

"Shhh, I know. Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not alright. I'll never be alright again."

"Shh, don't say that, baby. I'm here. I'm right here."

Then Joel begins to weep. He and Ellie cling to each other, each the other's life preserver, buoyed precariously on the edge of despair.


End file.
